


Behind the Camera.

by moz17



Category: Muse
Genre: Cameras, M/M, Tom Kirk POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moz17/pseuds/moz17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fic inspired by the thought of how much of what we see of Matt and Dom's relationship is shaped by the footage we see of them, chosen by Tom Kirk of course...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Camera.

It was funny how blind Tom was without his camera. His camera seemed to act like a pair of glasses for his brain, clarifying what was going on around him.   
It wasn’t until he turned his camera on his friends that he realised what was going on between two of them.   
Sometimes Tom felt like a voyeur, filming the two of them- for I f he could see it, surely it would follow that the rest of the world would see it too?   
He realised that he was not only charting the course of the band’s career but also the course of Matt and Dom’s relationship.   
He had filmed them when their relationship was only starting and they were enjoying their honeymoon period. The giddiness of their behaviour during an interview at Witness, where Dom flung himself across Matt’s lap. The moment he filmed where Matt’s gaze would be on Dom, checking for approval, confirming something for himself. Their flirting and jokes as they played pranks on one another- Tom recorded it all. 

Then came the settling in period.   
Their attachment for one another was still there but had grown mellower. Their behaviour wasn’t as obvious as before. They had grown into one another, so at ease that they didn’t need anymore grand gestures to express their closeness. For Tom, it was obvious to see in the way Matt and Dom would look at each other during interviews, smile at some private joke and sit so close but never touching.   
Sometimes Tom would capture moments on film where their desire would flare up again, so intensely, a rush and a reminder of their connection- he could see it in their faces as the music overcame them- music forged out of love- and they could no longer contain themselves and would destroy the stage, wrestling one another to the ground, their version of foreplay. 

He never knew the details of their affair- he would never ask, never even dare to let them know that he knew. But he began to notice that things weren’t the same. He thought maybe he was being blind again, even with his camera. No matter how long he filmed or trained his lens towards their direction, he could no longer pick up that special feeling, the one that made the light in his camera soften, more golden. It wasn’t there. The music was still there, the fun was still there, but whatever had been between Dom and Matt seemed to have faded. 

Tom felt unsettled by this but didn’t know why. He had no other tool but his camera. He kept filming and planning, yet, felt powerless when Matt didn’t sit near Dom, seemed to lose that telepathetic communication they shared on stage and on camera and when the smiles became a rare occurrence. Then Matt moved to Italy. 

He kept filming, editing and travelling with the band. And waiting, his camera ever ready. 

Wembley. This was going to be one of the greatest gigs they would ever do. Tom was worried.   
He followed his friends with his camera as they got ready for the gig.   
Dom was stretching, tapping his drumsticks against one another- Tom kept filming him- there was a strange flat look to his eyes. Dom became aware of Tom.

“I’m nervous.” 

Matt just stood by, his back to Dom, drinking some water and discussing some minor detail with someone. Tom thought he would deck him with his accursed camera. 

They made their way to the platform that would hoist them up onto stage. 

It finally came. Tom steadied the camera as Matt hopped up beside Dom and squeezed his arm. Tom held his breath as they rose up to the sound of screaming fans and the overture from “Romeo and Juliet”, whilst being showered with confetti. Matt was waving, looking ecstatically happy. Dom was gazing up at the sky, looking beatific, utterly Zen.   
“Yes.” Tom whispered, as they launched into the gig. As the concert went on, he could feel his unease evaporate. Things were back on track now. 

He strangely wished he could celebrate what had been restored. So, he did it the only way he knew.   
He worked with a new inspiration as he edited the footage for the Wembley DVD, wanting to make some tribute to his friends, some kind of a gesture. He wanted the world to see the renewed happiness and rightness of what Matt and Dom had. 

He searched through the songs until he came to “Unintended”. He pressed play.   
Matt sang- “She could never be as good as you…”   
During that line, Tom spliced two reels of footage together, fading from Matt’s figure at the microphone to Dom’s, as the words rang out in the air. 

“She could never be as good as you…”

That should be enough, Tom thought.


End file.
